Quatro: Fa La La La
by corneroffandom
Summary: Caroling... seems innocent enough, right?


A/N: Merry Christmas all!

"I want to go carolling," Zack declares abruptly, everyone immediately looking away from the TV and peering at him. Some look horrified and others look curious. "C'mon, bros! It'll be a blast!"

Dolph immediately shakes his head, trying to pull Zack back down onto the couch next to him. They had opted to hold the year's Christmas party at his summer house in New Jersey, which he now sees is something of a mistake. Although he had jokingly called it a summer house when he'd bought it just to have a place closer to Zack than his home in Arizona, it's used year around, as are the other houses nearby, and the last thing he needs is his neighbors to start a riot and make it unsafe for him to live here just because Zack wanted to sing. "Kid, no, think of the neighbors-"

"Oh, come _on!_ My singing isn't that bad, Hoeski made it onto the top 100-"

"Because people were morbidly curious," Wade offers with a sneer, his amusement abruptly fading when Heath disappears from his side. "Oh hell-"

"I'm in," he declares, his accent thick in his excitement. "I wanna sing! This'll be great, let's go. Ricardo, Spud, you in?"

Alberto and Ethan are both shaking their heads, trying to convince their significant others not to, but the two men are staring at each other, an odd bond growing strong between them because of their similar origins in both WWE and TNA, "Yes!" "Si!"

"...Shit," Dolph mutters, realizing that the cause is lost as he buries his face in his hands. "I really liked this house too..."

"Oh stop whining, bro, things'll be great! You should come with!"

"No!" he snaps, tearing his arm free of Zack's grip and almost regretting it immediately, taking a moment to make sure that it wasn't his recently injured arm that he'd just pulled away from so roughly. But Zack's pain is more emotional than physical so he steadies himself and turns away. "I'm not involving myself in this."

Wade, Alberto and Ethan all agree with him, staring incredulously at the four others as they disappear into the room where they'd dropped their coats when they had arrived for this impromptu Christmas party. "Bloody hell, they're really going to do this, aren't they?" Wade mutters. His question is answered when the four reappear a few minutes later in a flurry of coats and hats, gloves and scarves.

"Last chance to come with," Zack says, pointedly not looking at Dolph as he tugs carefully at the glove on his injured arm. None of them jump at the chance so he shrugs, turning to look at the others. "Come on, bros, let's go and leave these Scrooges here. Their loss."

"This is not going to end well," Alberto mutters as soon as the door shuts behind them, groaning.

"No, no it is not," Ethan sighs, sipping from the glass before him, suddenly wishing it had something a little more stronger than water in it.

Dolph passes over to the window overlooking the street heading towards the neighboring houses and watches the four men walk determinedly towards the nearest to the left, swallowing harshly. "Dammit, Kid..."

-x

"What are we going to sing first?" Spud asks, tugging anxiously at the bright blue coat protecting his body from the rough wind.

Zack thinks for a moment. "You all know Deck the Halls?"

"Of course!" Heath huffs, seeming offended by the question. Spud and Ricardo nod, seeming content with the idea.

"Great," Zack exclaims. "Then let's get started," he urges once they're standing on the front porch. "Deck the halls-" he starts, his own off-key attempt quickly overshadowed by Heath's strong southern accent, Ricardo and Spud's attempts better, but not enough to put Zack and Heath back on track. Apparently those in the house agree because, by the time they've made it to the second round of fa-la-las, there's a rough sound of locks grating against wood as the door is forced open and all four of them look up- just to receive a shower of thrown tomatoes, the vegetables exploding and raining down their clothes. "RUN!" Zack exclaims, pushing Spud ahead of him as he rushes into the street, the others quickly following him.

They stand there, breathless and dejected, Heath morosely licking at the tomatoes trickling down his face from where they're stuck in his hair, when Spud speaks up. "Should we give up-?"

"Hell no!" Zack yells. "Some grinch on this street isn't going to keep us from spreading holiday cheer. Come on, bros, the next house looks more cheerful." He's right, of course. The first house had no decorations, not even a tree visible in the windows, but the owners of the next one had gone all out. Lit up bushes, a Santa waving from the lawn, and when they stand by the door, they can see a wreath flickering behind the screen door. "Jingle bells, on three, bros."

Ricardo finds the courage to start them off first this time, his voice clear and steady as he starts the song once Zack finishes counting down. "Dashing through the snow, on a one-horse open sleigh-" Spud joins in, the two of them able to harmonize decently enough, until Zack and Heath join in, their voices not quite able to match with the other two's. They do make it a little further in the song, but the end result is the same, the door to the house opening. It's not tomatoes they're assailed with this time, however, as a jug of freezing water washes down over all four of them, sending them shivering from the house into the street. Ricardo curses spectacularly in Spanish as they stare at each other.

"Maybe we should give up," Spud mutters, shivering. He's cold, wet, smells of tomatoes, and beginning to wonder why he'd let Zack talk him into this after all.

"No," it's Heath this time who speaks up, shaking the cold water out of his wild hair. "These idiots don't know what good singing is. Let's try one more time, maybe we can find someone with taste." Even Zack seems far from thrilled with this, but he follows along, Spud and Ricardo exchanging glances as they trudge after the other two.

Heath storms up to the third house, standing stubbornly on the porch. The others have just joined him, Heath barely opening his mouth to begin, "Rocking around the Christmas tree-" when _this _door opens, something fine and light spilling all over them. "SALT!" he gasps, burying his face in his hands. "Run!" And they do, all four of them trying to protect their eyes from the all but invisible weapon. "What's wrong with people, dammit!" he cries once they've made it to the street safely, kicking at the gravel.

Ricardo's hand is warm on Spud's back as he grimaces and shudders. "Are you ok? Did you get salt in your eyes?"

"I think so," he grouses out, his shoulders slumping. "Can we go back now?"

Even Heath can't refuse this, looking as dejected as the others. "Yeah, sure," he breathes. "Sorry, Spud, didn't mean for you to get hurt..."

"Not your fault," the British man sighs, trusting in Ricardo to direct him across the street and back to Dolph's safely, unable to open his eyes without pain and their watering so bad that he's virtually blind anyway. The door is opened immediately, Spud sighing as Ethan's familiar touch ghosts over his face, down his neck. "Sir."

"We tried to warn you," he says grimly, pulling Spud's coat off. "Come on." He leads him into the bathroom and boosts him onto the counter by the sink so that they're eye to eye, tilting his head back so he can rinse his eyes out with warm, clean water from the faucet. Once he can keep his eyes open without cringing in pain, Ethan grips his jaw and makes him look down once more, their eyes locking as he examines his pupils. "Well, I don't see anything too serious," he comments. "If it starts to hurt too much or your vision gets weird, you let me know and we'll take you to see the doctor, alright?"

"Yes, sir," he agrees sheepishly, shoulders slumping. "It really did sound like fun..."

"I know," he murmurs. "Maybe if you had more... in-tune singers with you, huh?" Spud chuckles a little, looking guilty for laughing at Zack and Heath, and Ethan shakes his head, helping him down from the counter before kissing him. "Come on, let's go get you warmed up."

After long, hot showers for all of the would-be carolers, they regroup in the living room, Dolph's hand loosely resting on Zack's shoulder as they drink hot chocolate, the bag of marshmellows growing smaller and smaller while Heath and Zack seem to have a contest to see who can fit the most in their mugs, Wade looking as fondly exasperated as Dolph is feeling, his arm loosely curling around Heath's chest to keep him from snagging the last marshmellow out of Zack's grasp.

Ricardo and Spud are quietly leaning against Alberto and Ethan on opposite sides of the room, looking sleepy and content as soft Christmas music sounds from the TV, Alberto murmuring the lyrics to Ricardo in Spanish with a fond smile on his face, Ethan's fingers tangled in Spud's freshly washed, shining blond hair. Dolph's eyes peer from man to man as he takes them all in, remembers how sad and dejected the four men had all been upon coming in earlier, cold and covered in salt and tomatoes, their shivering secondary to the moroseness in their gazes. The kind of look he hates seeing on Zack's face, even if it comes by some failed venture that he'd insisted on trying. Even though he'd thought it'd be funny when they'd first left, to actually see it come to pass had been an entirely different situation, and now... Well, now...

Unable to believe fully that he's going to do this, Dolph pulls himself to his feet once they're all done with their drinks, dusting his hands off on his jeans. "Come on, guys," he says simply, walking off to the bedroom. Ducking back out into the living room, he catches Alberto and Ethan's eyes, not surprised when they catch on quickly, nudging their men to wakefulness. "Let's go caroling."

Zack pauses for a few long, painful moments, before the expected, "Are you serious, bro!?" explodes from his lips, Dolph laughing softly in the bedroom as his broski's pounding footsteps race towards him, his arms locking around his midsection in a bearhug that nearly knocks him over. "You better not be screwing with me, bro," he breathes into Dolph's ear, beaming.

"When I am, you'll know it, kid," he murmurs, leaning into Zack's touch for a moment before pushing him off lightly. "Get dressed and let's go, maybe this time we can avoid you coming back looking like an Italian restaurant exploded on you."

"Hahaha," he intones, but moves quickly to do as Dolph had urged, not wanting to give him the opportunity to change his mind as the others trail in and begin to pull on their winter clothes as well. Once all eight of them are on the sidewalk, looking for a house to go to, Zack squeezes Dolph's hand. "Which song are we starting with, bro?"

"My neighbors would thank us all if we started with Silent Night, I think," he says seriously, quickly losing his composure as Zack makes a face at him and Heath looks less than pleased as well, glaring at him from over Wade's shoulder. "But this time, I think we should sing _It's The Most Wonderful Time Of Year."_ Zack grins, sharp and wide at this, and Dolph shakes his head fondly, leaning in to kiss him. "Try not to blow it this time, kid. Tomatoes clash _terribly_ with my hair..."

Caroling goes much better this time, no food or liquids are thrown, and the group of them return to the house unscathed. Zack's pretty sure it's because this time, if someone had moved wrong upon opening their door they were stopped short by Wade, Alberto and Ethan's sharp stares... which, yeah, no one would want to be on the wrong side of _that..._ He chuckles at the memory, smiling fondly at Dolph when he glances over at him. The two of them are wandering around, checking on their guests before they go to get some sleep themselves.

There are only three bedrooms in the house, so Ethan and Spud had claimed the cushy living room couch, Ethan sprawled out on his back with Spud laying on his chest, his face nuzzled into Ethan's throat. Both of them looking utterly comfortable, cocooned in a thick blanket that Dolph had provided them, and Zack grins at the sight, dragging Dolph down the hall.

Alberto and Ricardo's room is next, Dolph careful as he pushes the door open enough for them to peek inside. Del Rio is reading something, his stilted English making certain words difficult for him. Ricardo lays next to him, his head resting on his chest and an arm wrapped around his midsection, listening with his eyes closed. "...she skimmed the book's app- ap... app-"

Alberto stumbles over the strange word a time or two before Ricardo sits up and checks the book. "Appendix, El Patron," he says softly, turning to look up at his former employer, eyes shining when Alberto leans in to kiss him.

"Gracias, mi valiente," he murmurs before resuming reading, this the best way they'd found to get his mastery of the English language stronger before he begins working for such places as ROH.

Dolph and Zack retreat quietly once more, padding down to the bedroom where Heath and Wade are holed up, not needing to poke the door open this time as it's already partially open. They peek inside, Zack's fingers immediately closing around Dolph's sleeve as he finds that Wade is kneeling behind Heath on the bed, carefully brushing his orange hair out, counting to a hundred as he does so. They watch in awe until he finishes and hands Heath a hairtie, which he uses to tie his hair up into a short ponytail while watching himself in the mirror hanging on the wall across from the bed. "Thanks, Brit," he hums contentedly, twisting around to kiss Wade.

"You're welcome," Wade says, laying the hairbrush down on the table next to the bed. "I suppose brushing your hair out _has_ been good rehab for my arm. It's not too stenuous, and it's kept my arm from locking up a couple of times..."

"Told you." Heath laughs softly, his eyes gleaming.

Zack chuckles as he and Dolph head back towards their room, the hall darkening as the light in Heath and Wade's room is clicked off. Once they finish their own bedtime rituals, Zack turns the light off and sinks into bed next to Dolph, tracing his fingers over the bedspread until he finds Dolph's fingers and squeezes them. "'Twas the night before Christmas," he murmurs, careful not to sing as Dolph drifts next to him, "when all through the house..."

"Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse," Dolph finishes with a sleepy smile, turning to face him as the quiet peace of the house lulls them. "G'night, kid."

"Night, bro," he hums, only needing to shift a little to kiss Dolph before they both fall asleep.


End file.
